On the current home page of Red Room, in the Best Buzz of the Best of Red Room area, there is a link that will direct you to several excellent blogs regarding this year's winner of the Best Movie category, "Slumdog Millionaire." If you haven't dived into them, go check them out.
Reading them reminded me of the prompt we received in the Creative Caffeine group right after Oscars night. The prompt given to us was "... and the award goes to ...".
Having just watched the show, I took what was fresh on my mind and let my imagination run wild. Below was my CC submission.
And The Award Goes To …
By Randy Wong
"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the 81st Academy Awards! Let's welcome tonight's host, Hugh Jackman!"
The audience roars with delight after the public announcer's introduction of the evening's host. Immaculately dressed, standing and applauding, Hollywood insiders wait with bated breath for Jackman's initial appearance. The joyous adulation quickly dissipates to stunned silence as Hugh Jackman walks onto stage fully dressed in his Wolverine costume.
Murmurs of astonishment cascade throughout the Kodak Theater as Jackman walks towards his center stage mark. Hearing the murmurs, Jackman pulls the unlit cigar from his mouth and scowls at the audience.
"What the hell are you looking at? If this were the Tonys, you get the Boy from Oz. Since this is the Oscars, you get Wolverine. Deal with it, bub."
Jackman bites the end off the unlit cigar and spits it out towards the audience. Amid horrified gasps, he lights his cigar and smokes it. The acrid cigar smoke piggy backs onto the theater's ventilation system, as the stench of burning tobacco leaves penetrates the finest of designer eveningwear. Within moments, Vera Wang gowns and Armani suits are quickly reduced to smoking jackets.
Puffing on his cigar, Jackman puts both hands onto his hips and scowls at the audience once more. "Folks, this is what's going to happen this evening. I am leaving after tonight's ceremony back to Australia. I need to be with the wife and kids. We're on a tight schedule, which means no long winded acceptance speeches. Also, we will not be handing out awards for any of the 'I don't give a shit' categories tonight. I am not kidding."
Vocal protests start come from the audience. Several audience members begin to scream for Jackman's head on a stick. Jack Nicholson, sitting in the front row, stands up with his arms stretched out.
"Jesus, Jackman. Are you nuts? Are you crazy?"
"Sit down, Jack!" growled Jackman. "Don't make me hurt you."
Stunned, Nicholson stares for a moment, and then sits back down.
Jackman continues. "As I said before, the acceptance speeches will be shortened tonight. Normally, the winner gets about forty seconds, and then the orchestra plays them off. Tonight, they will have to deal with this."
Extending both arms, Jackman display both fists towards the audience. Suddenly, three foot-long sharp blades extend from either arm. SNIKT! Jackman smiles wickedly.
Jack Nicholson reacts from his seat. "Oh, look. The Boy from Oz brought toys from the set."
Jackman steps to the front of the stage. "Nope. Not toys. I brought them home and made … enhancements."
Swinging one of his claws in a broad arc, Jackman strikes the teleprompter next to the microphone, and shatters it.
"This is what's going to happen. You get to have thirty seconds for your acceptance speech. Five seconds after that, I give you a dirty look. After that, I pop my claws. Then, I walk slowly towards you. After that, I will stand next to you with my claws in your back. From there, you get to leave the stage crawling on your elbows and knees. Any questions? No? Good."
Jackman withdraws his claws and goes back to his stage marker.
"It's my show, so it's my rules. Right now, I will be handing out the Oscar for the category of Best Director." Jackman temporarily pops out a single claw and cuts open the envelope. "The winner is Danny Boyle for 'Slumdog Millionaire.' Come and get your award, Danny."
Scattered applause is heard from the audience as the camera pans to a stunned Danny Boyle still sitting in his seat.
"Hey, Boyle!" screams Jackman. "Come and get your Oscar! Your thirty seconds starts now!"
For a moment, Boyle is frozen in his seat. He is transfixed, staring at his own surprised expression on the stage monitor. Boyle is forced back into reality and action after the person sitting next to him hits him in the shoulder.
"Oh my! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Boyle stumbles and falls as he attempts to run towards the stage. Meanwhile, a countdown sequence is shown on the stage monitors, counting down from the number thirty.
After Doyle finally reaches the stage, Jackman smiles and walks towards Boyle to hand him his trophy. When Boyle makes a move to retrieve the statue, however, Jackman pulls back the award and stretches behind his head.
"What's a matter, Boyle? You want this award? You want this award? What's wrong? You look stressed."
"Hey! Gimme my award!"
Smiling, Jackman finally relents and hands the statue to Boyle.
"What a maroon. You can have your action figure."
As Jackman steps off to the side, hands behind his back, and staring straight ahead at the audience. Boyle tries to compose himself for his acceptance speech. With the teleprompter destroyed, Boyle has to rely on the countdown shown on the monitor. Only fifteen seconds are left.
"Oh god. Umm, look. I would like to thank the academy for this prestigious award. I would like thank all the actors and the people who worked on this marvelous film."
Jackman turns to Boyle and scowls. Boyle is visibly shaken.
"Umm … this movie was been truly a Cinderella story for those of us who worked on it."
SNIKT! Jackman pops his claws and walks towards Boyle.
"Oh my god. Look, I need more time. This movie is so … so special … and I would like to thank all the people involved …"
"Time's up, Boyle!" yells Jackman. "Time to leave the stage!"
Swinging one of his claws, Jackman tries to hit Boyle in the head. Instead, his claws hits the Oscar statuette, cutting off the head.
"Oh my god! You're crazy!" Boyle begins to run to the other side of the podium, but Jackman cuts him off, snarling and swinging his arms like crazy.
"Time's up, Danny! Get off the friggin' stage!"
Boyle and Jackman spend the next several moments running in circles around the podium. Suddenly, Jackman yells and stops. He pulls out the dart that was fired into his chest from the front row.
"What the hell? Who fired this?"
"That would be me, you crazy Aussie!" Nicholson takes aim and fires another dart into Jackman, this time hitting him in the shoulder.
Jackman screams as the he loses his balance and falls down. Contingents of policemen suddenly appear onto the stage and secure Jackman with a straight jacket.
Nicholson calmly lays down the dart gun that he was hiding under his seat. "You see, Hugh. I brought my own toys tonight. The dart! You can't handle the dart!" Nicholson laughs.
The police secure Jackman into the straight jacket. As he is being hauled off stage, he screams at the audience.
"Australia got screwed! Baz Luhrmann is a god! A god, I tell you!"
The lights suddenly dim as the voice of the public address announcer comes on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please stay in your seat as we have a moment of silence to honor our fellow members we've lost this past year. Thank you."
The theater goes pitch black as the words "IN MEMORIUM" displays on the main projection screen. The words fade off the screen, and the frozen picture of a crazed Hugh Jackman being hauled off in a straight jacket by members of Los Angeles' finest is dissolved onto the screen.
"Hugh Jackman. Born: 1968. Died (professionally): 2009."